


You Could Call Me A Car Lover

by fictionalfeelsandfrustrations



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Car Sex, First Time, Jealous Derek, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Sort of? - Freeform, prostitution?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-15
Packaged: 2017-11-25 07:51:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalfeelsandfrustrations/pseuds/fictionalfeelsandfrustrations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Look!" Derek snapped. "I don't want a blow job; I just want my damn burger."</p><p>Unfortunately, Stiles walked out right as the words left his lips.  Stiles threw him a burger. </p><p>"I want a blow job," he piped up from behind the woman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I watched High Road (Dylan O'Brien) and this happened. The beginning is based loosely on the rude hooker scene. Because Dylan is fantastic.
> 
> There's a lot of rambling Stiles. It's fun to write.
> 
> Un-beta'd. All mistakes are my own.

"I swear to god, this will only take like two minutes. I know this looks seedy, but you will find the Lord Jesus in the burgers from this place."

 

"Just hurry," Derek barks as he opens the driver's side door to get out also.

 

"Um, you should totally stay with the car. I mean, I'm sure this lovely lady," Stiles gestures vaguely toward a woman who is obviously a prostitute,” wouldn't do anything to it, but there are probably ruffians about."

 

Derek huffs. "Yeah. I'd like to be already out of the vehicle if one of the 'ruffians' decides they want your lunch money. You think I'd leave my Camaro out here alone?"

 

"Whatever, man. I haven't carried my lunch money on me since fifth grade. I'll be right back."

 

This is how Derek Hale is left leaning against the car. He can smell the sex recently had in this parking lot. His instincts are screaming at him to leave, but Stiles had insisted on eating after training and had waxed poetic about these burgers. To be fair, Derek was hungry. He was also studiously ignoring the prostitute ogling him.

 

"Hey, baby. D'ywanna blow job? You're so pretty it'll be on the house." She sashays toward him.

 

He growls lightly in the back of his throat, hoping to scare her off. To his dismay, she just grins and reaches out to touch his pecs.

 

"Oh, I like you. Growl again for me. Do you growl when you're getting head, too?" she asks, tilting her head to the side.

 

"I don't want a blow job."

 

"Everyone wants a blow job. I know women who wish they had dicks so they could get blow jobs."

 

Derek rolls his eyes. “Lady, no."

 

She grins at him. "You could close your eyes."

 

"What?"

 

She finally takes a step back, though the hungry look in her eyes doesn't retreat. "So you can pretend it's a guy. I saw the way you look at that pretty piece of jail-bait. It's okay, I won't be offended."

 

"Look!" Derek snaps. "I don't want a blow job; I just want my damn burger."

 

Unfortunately, Stiles walks out right as the words leave his lips.  Stiles throws him a burger.

 

"I want a blow job," he pipes up from behind the woman.

 

"Stiles..." Derek warns. The woman looks between them.

 

"What?" Stiles asks, innocently. "You got your 'damn burger'. The lady wants to give a blow job. I wouldn't mind getting one. It's a win-win-win," he cries, winking at the woman.

 

Derek doesn't see the wink, because his eyes are closed in concentration. He’s trying not to shift, just from the thought of someone else's mouth on Stiles. He is not going to let that happen even if he has to drag the kid away kicking and screaming.

 

"You know what," says the woman, deciding to play along even though she won't be getting any business from them. "You're almost as pretty as he is. No really," she assures when Stiles scoffs in disbelief. "Almost. I'll give you a discount." She winks at Derek when he opens his eyes.

 

"Stiles, get in the car."

 

"Um, no thanks, dad. I'm about to get a discount blow job. You can get in the car. Or you can stand there and watch if you're feeling kinky. I don't care much either way," he says, shrugging. And, oh. Stiles likes that idea in a weird, not-quite-enough way. He hopes Derek will just assume that the arousal Stiles is sure he’s putting off is for the prostitute.

 

Derek still hasn't realized it is a joke. His jaw drops for just a moment, just long enough for Stiles to notice and start grinning like a maniac. Derek quickly composes his face before issuing his next command. This time coupled with a threat.

 

"Get in the car, or I'll rip your throat out with my teeth." He’s too amazed and aroused and angry to think of a good one, so he just goes with a stand-by.

 

Stiles just rolls his eyes. The woman giggles and takes a step toward Stiles. "Oooo. That does sound kinky." She takes the few remaining steps to Stiles. "I think you should wait it out. Make him make good on that threat." She turns so that she can look at Derek while she kisses Stiles on the cheek.

 

Derek's whole body tenses even more, which Stiles wouldn't have thought was possible. Stiles feels his eyes grow wide and decides that they've teased him long enough. There seems to be a significant danger of Derek wolfing out on this poor woman. He doesn't know why, though, even if it weren't a joke.

 

"Oh, he would. I guess I better get in. He'll be pissed if his burger gets too cold. He's real particular about his meat." He kisses the woman on the forehead and gives her a quick hug. "Thanks for playing, doll."

 

She blows him a kiss when he turns to grin from the door of the Camaro. "Have fun, Jail-bait," she calls.

 

Derek glares and slides in behind the wheel. He hopes Stiles will just let him drive and eat his burger in peace, but he also knows it is unlikely. And yes, as soon as they pull out of the restaurant's drive, he starts.

 

"Jesus, Derek, you're such a cock-block. She was going to give me a discount, dude!" Stiles decides that in the safety of the Camaro, he can continue ribbing Derek.

 

"Stiles. Stop." Derek takes another bite of his burger.

 

Stiles starts shoving too many curly fries in his mouth. Derek waits for him to start choking, slows down so he can pull over if needed. Stiles just swallows half of them without chewing and then crams more in. And now Derek is thinking about Stiles' mouth and his apparent lack of gag reflex.

 

"No," he says out loud.

 

Stiles turns toward him with concern in his eyes and a single curly fry dangling from his mouth. "Um, no what, dude?"

 

Shit. "Nothing. Just talking to myself."

 

"Whatever," Stiles says. He goes back to eating, but keeps his eyes on Derek. "But she was hot, wasn't she? And I would totally love to get some of this virginity bull-shit out of the way. A blow job seems like a good place to start. Plus, no awkwardness afterward, you know? And--"

 

"Fuck, Stiles!" Derek yells, cutting him off. He slams his hand down on the steering wheel. "You do not want to lose any, any, part of your virginity to a hooker, okay? Jesus."

 

Now Stiles is intrigued. Did Derek sound jealous? No way.

 

"Well, Derek freaking-hot-chiseled-abs Hale, nobody is exactly lining up to get a piece of this scrawny action, okay? I'll have to take it wherever I can get it."

 

"Hot chiseled abs? Really?" Derek teases. He needs to get away from the subject of Stiles getting anything from anywhere besides Derek.

 

Stiles shrugs. "It's true. I don't mind saying it, since I'm clearly the brains of this couple…er, duo. Whatever," he says, grinning to cover for his slip of the tongue. He reaches over to pat Derek's thigh, consoling him on his brawn-over-brain lifestyle. Suddenly, Derek's hand is on top of his, holding it there.

 

"Um?" Stiles questions, mostly with his eyebrows.

 

Without taking his eyes off the road, Derek moves his hand to line up his fingers with the spaces between Stiles'. "Your first anything should not be with a stranger, okay?" He quickly moves his hand back to the wheel, still not looking at Stiles.

 

"Ha!" Stiles blurts out and then covers his mouth, eyes wide. "Oh my god," comes from under his fingers. He uncovers his mouth. Finally, Derek looks at him, face full of confusion. "I knew it! You were totally jealous that the hooker was gonna blow me. This isn't about protecting my virtue or whatever, is it? You just want me for yourself." Stiles giggles, actually giggles.

 

"Christ." Derek rolls his eyes, trying to suggest the absurdity of the statement without actually saying it isn't true. He was smelling excitement roll off the boy in waves.

 

"Well, damn, dude. All you have to say is 'Stiles, I want you for more than your hot body. I want you for your mind, too.' I'll be yours and probably pretty naked pretty quick." Stiles is flailing and talking even more quickly than normal. Derek tries to figure out if he is still making fun of Derek or if he is serious. His elevated heart beat wasn’t even helpful, since it could’ve been from arousal or the thrill of teasing Derek.

 

"I mean, I'd tap you like a maple tree, who wouldn't?” Oh, and there’s the arousal, stronger than it had been in the parking lot. “But, bro, if you're not going to make an actual move, you totally cannot growl away everyone who does. I'm so not your bitch yet.” The smell of embarrassment almost over powers the scent of how turned on Stiles is. “Not that I would be your bitch! I'm a strong, independent man, who don't need no alpha! Ok. That was a pop-culture reference. That's okay. We'll have to catch you up on some of that, or you're not going to get half the stuff I say." Stiles finally pauses to take a breath. Derek sees his chance.

 

"Stiles, I want you for more than your hot body. I want you for your mind, too." He says it looking out the windshield, but at the prolonged silence, he turns to look at Stiles. He is staring at Derek, mouth hanging open, eyebrows way up. Derek can't help the grin that spread across his face. How often is Stiles Stilinski rendered speechless? He savors it, knowing it won't last. Sure enough, as soon as the grin happens, Stiles' eyes narrow.

 

"Is that a joke? I didn't know you could make jokes!" His face clears and he smiles at Derek again. "So, should I be taking my pants off, or...?"

 

Derek takes an unfamiliar exit that promises a rest stop. "Yeah," he rumbles. "You should probably do that." He knew now. Stiles wanted this.

 

Stiles sees the rest stop and his eyes get huge. "Ha ha, Derek. Very funny."

 

They pull to a stop, Derek turns the car off, and turns in his seat to face Stiles expectantly. "Do I need to say it again? Does the car veto it? We're only a few miles from my house; we could probably arrange something else."

 

"The...the hot body thing? Counts anywhere. If you're being serious, I wouldn't mind hearing it again." Stiles turns his whole body to sit cross legged with his back against the door. His eyes are still round.

 

Derek leans across the console, putting his hands on Stiles' thighs. "Stiles, I want you," he slips his hands up to his hips, "for more than," up over his chest, pausing over his heart, "your hot body." Derek licks his lips at the prospect. He moves his hands down over Stiles' shoulders, down his arms. "I want you for your mind, too." He takes Stiles' hands in his. He holds them for a moment, just looking Stiles in the eyes.

 

In a sudden burst of limbs, Stiles is untangling his legs and launching himself at Derek. Derek flies back against the door, finding Stiles running his hands over Derek's chest and shoulders, and mashing his mouth against Derek's. Once he gets over the shock of the attack, and again over the shock of having Stiles like this, he grunts his approval. He pulls Stiles closer, a feat, considering the Camaro's size.

 

Now Stiles is kneeling between Derek's uncomfortably widespread legs, leaning down to kiss Derek furiously. He was moving his arm up from Derek's waist to wrap it around Derek's neck when he smacks his elbow on the steering wheel. He pulls back from the kiss to howl in pain.

 

"Oh. My. God. Fucking ow. Fucking funny bone. Jesus. Derek, you're too big for this car and you’re so hot and I just can't oh my god. I just made out with Derek Hale. How? My fucking elbow! Ugh. I WOULD injure myself while kissing god damn Derek Hale. Sorry!" Stiles cries when he notices Derek's amused expression. "Jesus fucking fuck. I'll shut up now."

 

Stiles moves so that he is straddling Derek, being careful of the steering wheel. He locks his ankles behind Derek to pull him closer. They’re still too cramped to move much, but at least they can move together now. Derek kisses him again, less desperately, but still full of heat and need. He swallows the groan that Stiles lets loose when Derek grinds his hips up.

 

Stiles breaks from the kiss and drops his head to Derek's shoulder. "Oh my god, Derek," he moans into Derek's neck. Derek keeps a steady pace with his hips, grinding his erection up against Stiles' ass. With every movement, Stiles' dick is rubbed between their bellies, making him whimper. Another moan is racked from his body, and Stiles releases it against Derek's pulse point. He sucks a small mark in the same place, licking over the top of it. With the next roll of Derek's hips, he rakes his teeth across the spot. Derek snarls in appreciation next to his ear and pulls him tighter, grinding up faster.

 

"Please, Derek," Stiles mewls. He pulls his head up for another rough, sloppy kiss.

 

"I want to do something now. Okay?" Derek pants.

 

"Yes. Anything! Touch me. Kiss me. I don't care. Everything. Please." Each phrase is punctuated with a hitch in his breath as Derek makes contact again and again.

 

Derek lets out a growl that ends in a moan when Stiles reaches up and grabs a fistful of Derek's hair to brace himself against Derek's rutting.

 

"Okay. Scoot back," Derek commands.

 

Stiles' half closed eyes shoot open. "I just need some room," Derek tells him reassuringly.

 

He nods and scrambles backward as Derek leans him back over the console. "Room for what?" he whispers.

 

Derek flashes him a wicked grin. “That blow job. Free of charge.” He cannot physically resist what comes next. “Because you’re so pretty.” That is not something he’d really wanted to say out loud.

 

Stiles’ body goes limp. “Oh my god. Derek Hale is about to give me head. This is the best day of my life. I’m going to bake that prostitute cookies.”

 

Derek rolls his eyes. “Just relax, okay? If you don’t like anything, tell me.”

 

Stiles levels a serious look at him. “Do. Not. Be. Gentle. Do whatever you want to me. I will like it. I know it’s my first anything ever, but you’re doing it. I will like it.”

 

Derek nods, leaning over Stiles’ raised knees to press soft kisses along his jaw. Stiles grabs greedily at Derek’s shirt and Derek allows him to pull it off, before ridding Stiles of his own (to put them on equal footing, obviously). He braces himself against the door and put his nose to Stiles’ neck. He leaves more kisses there and spends some time just inhaling. Stiles moves his hands the whole time. Up and down Derek’s back and sides, through his hair, along the back of his neck.

 

Derek chuckles into Stiles’ shoulder at the boy’s inability to keep still. There is something endearing about it, even as he huffes “Calm down,” against Stiles’ too-rapid heart. He leaves a kiss in the wake of his words. Stiles seems to relax a little beneath him. Then, because he’s a little bit of an asshole, Derek flicks his tongue against Stiles nipple.

 

Stiles hisses in pleasure and tenses again. Derek looks up to grin at him. “Fucking lord in heaven, Derek, you are an ass. You are so lucky I’m not working at full brain capacity right now, or you would be paying for that.” There’s a slight huskiness to the boy’s voice that suggests Derek might enjoy that. But not right now.

 

Derek backs off from the boy, to try and arrange Stiles in a way that will be the most comfortable for both of them. It mostly doesn’t work. Stiles is sitting close to the edge of the passenger’s seat, ass against the e-break, one leg over the edge, one leg pulled up and splayed over, pushing his knee into the back of the seat. He’s not particularly uncomfortable. Stiles looks at Derek, knowing that there is no way in hell Derek is comfortable. He’s perched on his knees on the console, meaning he has to duck his head and he’s gripping the e-break in a way that tells Stiles he’s holding something back. Stiles assumes it’s his discomfort until he looks Derek in the eye.

 

“Are you…we don’t have to…” Stiles flails. He knows Derek can fill in his sentences. Thankfully, Derek’s expression shifts from whatever that terrible haunted guilty look was to a look of confusion. Which Stiles can totally deal with. It was that other thing that had his heart beating frighteningly fast.

 

“Why wouldn’t I want to? Do you not want to?” And Derek looks…hurt? Which Stiles totally cannot deal with.

 

“What?! Yes I want to! I mean, I’ve wanted to for a while, but I mean, you’re insanely hot and I’m stupidly awkward so I never thought we would. But you looked, scared? Or guilty, or maybe a mixture? I thought it was because you didn’t want to, but you didn’t want to break my little heart or like, crush my dreams or something.” And for once, when Stiles tells his mouth to shut up, it does. He can just look at Derek. Almost expectantly, but not really, because how can he expect things from Derek?

 

“Stiles, you’re underage. And besides being illegal, it does make me feel a little guilty. I just want to make sure you’re sure.” Derek looks at Stiles like he can will the right words from him with just his gaze, which, you know. He totally can.

 

But not gracefully, of course. “PBFT!” Stiles pushes out a big gust of air to make a noise of disbelief and humor and everything that Derek is hoping for. Next he lets out a loud guffaw, and then he’s laughing, if a bit hysterically. Derek puts his hand on Stiles’ knee, trying to bring him back from whatever he’s laughing about.

 

“Oh christ, Derek. I helped you kill a guy. A scary Alpha Uncle Hale guy. I mean, we did the pool thing. I helped with Gerard. My _life_ has been in peril repeatedly. And you’re worried about having sex because I’m underage? Nope. That is ridiculous. And for god’s sake if you don’t give me the damn blow job I’ve now been offered _twice_ tonight, I…will do something. And it will be bad. And you’ll regret your decision. So. Get on with it.” Stiles crosses his arms and glares at Derek. His heart is beating fast, so Derek knows he had to really fight to both get those words out and to stop himself from continuing.

 

Derek shakes his head and moves to undo Stiles pants. The e-break is digging into his knee and his back already hurts a little, but as soon as he manages to get Stiles pants down, he knows it’s worth it. Stiles’ underwear managed to stay up somehow, and Derek can plainly see the erection pushing up the fabric. He licks his lips, almost forgetting that there’s a person there, until Stiles moans.

 

“Don’t _do_ that. You could just look at me like that for a minute and I’d come untouched. That is beyond fucked,” Stiles cries, rubbing a hand over his flushed face. Derek grins until Stiles removes his hand, at which point Derek schools his features into a lust-ridden, slightly dangerous, expression, which isn’t hard because he is lust-ridden and slightly dangerous. Stiles just narrows his eyes. But Derek hears his pulse pick up and sees his dick twitch.

 

Derek moves back to put his knees at the edge of his seat, pushing his feet into the door to keep himself close to the console. He leans over the console, holding himself up with one hand and jerking Stiles’ underwear down roughly, earning a pleased gasp as Stiles’ dick slips from under the fabric. Derek doesn’t even look at Stiles again as he takes the head into his mouth, suddenly hungry to taste Stiles, as much of him as he can, as quickly as possible.

 

Stiles just gasps and moans and feels his hips thrust up without his permission. He can feel himself talking, but he can’t hear himself. He’s too lost over the feel of Derek’s mouth on him, when suddenly Derek swallows him down. “Aah- _ah fuck._ Derek. Jesus, Derek.” And he knows that his words have now just melted into a litany of Derek’s name and various swear words.

 

Derek drags his mouth up the length of Stiles, agonizingly slowly, tongue flat against the underside of his cock and pulls off with a wet sounding pop. Stiles moans and shivers at the sudden lack of heat. He opens his eyes and tilts his head up to look at Derek and reprimand him for stopping, but nearly falls apart from what he sees. Derek Hale, spit glistening on his chin, looking at him with hungry bedroom eyes and…Stiles thinks there’s something more there, but is in no state to try and figure it out. “What?” he manages to croak.

 

“You says you love me?” Derek says. It’s gruff and obviously a question, but there’s something under the tone that Stiles can’t place.

 

Stiles shrugs and feigns nonchalance, but he knows Derek can hear his heart pick up 4 or 5 notches. “I don’t know how that got mixed up in all the cussing. But yeah. I do. I also love your mouth on my dick, so if we could get back to that…” and he’s hoping that Derek just roll with it, because Stiles is not ready to have that conversation right now. Or maybe ever. Because Derek. And just no.

 

But Derek just looks at him and Stiles knows that it will have to happen. “Okay. Later? After? Please?” And Stiles leans forward to pull Derek forward and just grabs his hair and tugs because he _cannot_ handle that intensity when he’s this hard and accidentally just told Derek Hale that he loves him. But it works, thank god, because Derek growls at the tug and moves back to Stiles groin. He bypasses his throbbing erection, though and lays his face at the junction between Stiles’ thigh and crotch and inhales.

 

Stiles is really trying to let him have his little wolfy smelling moment, but Derek shifts a little and his stubble against Stiles’ thigh is doing things to him. He lets out a little moan and his leg twitches which means more stubble scraping deliciously against his thigh. Stiles is panting now, and Derek is just nuzzling into the crease there, smiling a little and sniffing.

 

“So fucking help me Derek Hale, if I have to tell you one more time, I swear- _oh_ ,” he cuts off, drawing out the vowel. Because Derek is nibbling now. And Stiles didn’t know he wanted that but wow, he does.

 

Derek starts where his nose was a moment ago. He’s using his teeth, barely. The tiniest amount of teeth he’s capable of. He works his way up to Stiles’ cock. He nips, barely grazing his teeth against the skin, and follows it with a flick of his tongue. Stiles is gasping and mewling and writhing under his mouth, but he makes himself hold back. He gets to the tip and pushes his tongue against the slit there. A shudder wracks through Stiles’ body and he groans, digging his fingers into the leather of the seat. Derek gets greedy again, mouthing around the head, lapping at the pre-come leaking.

 

He bobs his head a few times, and hears Stiles breathe, “Derek! Oh god. You’re so beautiful.”

 

He starts chuckling around Stiles, which Stiles responds to by tensing. “Derek, no. Oh, I’m about to come. Move your face.”

 

Derek growls a little in the back of his throat and then Stiles is arching up as much as the position will allow and reaching for Derek and grabbing his hair. “ _Derek oh god yes I love you thank you yes oh Derek.”_ Derek feels the come sliding down his throat as he swallows, feels it dripping down his chin when he can’t quite manage to swallow it all. While Stiles is riding out the aftershocks, Derek grips his own erection through too many layers of cloth, rubbing a few times until he’s coming, too, hot all over his pants, vision clouding over with pleasure.

 

He drops his head back into the crease of Stiles’ groin. “Derek?” And Stiles sounds timid and unsure. Derek looks up and sees that Stiles’ face matches his tone. Derek moves until he’s able to kiss Stiles. He makes it soft and aims for sweet, sliding his mouth over Stiles until he has to breathe. Stiles looks at him through heavily lidded eyes and Derek realizes that’s something he could get used to seeing.

 

“You have jizz on your chin. That’s mine. You have my jizz on your chin. This is good. I like it.” Stiles pulls Derek in for another kiss, sloppy because he’s worn out, but not enough to not want to kiss Derek.

 

Derek wants to talk about Stiles loving him and all the wonderful things that makes him feel. They need to. But Derek would rather take Stiles to a bed and kiss him until he falls asleep than talk about anything.

 

“I’m taking you home,” he mutters against Stiles’ lips. He growls when Stiles jerks back. “And then I’m going to drive away. So I can come back through your window and kiss you to sleep.”

 

Stiles eyes go wide. He defaults to sarcasm. “How many words was that in a row? Don’t strain yourself, buddy.”

 

Derek rolls his eyes as he wedges himself back into his seat. “Or I can kick you out an make you walk home.”

 

Stiles moves to fix his pants and boxers and right himself in his seat. “Like you would. What if some other wolf smells the sex on me and thinks it smells tasty? He might gobble me up. And I doubt it would be as fun as the last time I was gobbled up,” he grouses, poking Derek in the side.

 

Derek lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Changed my mind. You’re too oversexed. I’m dropping you back off with the prostitute.”

 

“Not on your life, Sourwolf. It’s all you now.”

 

Derek doesn’t even try to contain his throaty growl. “Good.”

 

 


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But the cookies are awesome and she'll love them, right?" Stiles asked Derek out loud.
> 
> Derek looked over and Stiles was chewing on his lip. His eyes were big and round and Derek didn't understand. He could face all kinds of monsters with a brave face, but he was worried a prostitute wouldn't like his cookies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested, here's Stiles making prostitute cookies. Enjoy!

"I honestly can't believe we're doing this."

Stiles just grinned at him. "Don't glower at me. You're just jealous again. Don't worry, dude, I'll make you cookies, too. Later. After more sex. Much more. Lots of sex. And not in a car. Oh! There. I'll make you cookies after we have not-car-sex."

"Okay, but you didn't have any kind of sex with her." Derek suppressed the growl that wanted to come out on the last word.

"But she inadvertently led to the best sex of my life." Derek shot him a look. "Okay, whatever. The only sex of my life. But really, I doubt there will ever be sex that could even compare, much less top it. Unless it's also with you." 

Derek thought that was as good a cue to bring up the love thing as any. He'd intended to say something as soon Stiles woke up, but somehow Stiles had woken before him and extracted himself from Derek's death-grip without waking him. When Derek had listened to make sure the Sherriff wasn't home, he'd heard Stiles humming in the kitchen.

He'd made his way downstairs and found the kitchen in an impressive state of disarray. Stiles was evidently baking something. And he was wearing an apron. Derek had just stood in the doorway and watched Stiles dance around a little to his humming. Then suddenly he was singing, loudly. "I'm walking on sunshine. WOH-OH!" and shaking his hips. Derek lost it. It seemed like it had been forever since he'd laughed that hard. 

"Oh my god, you fucking creeper!” Stiles had yelled, chucking a wooden spoon at his head and missing.

"Stiles," Derek gasped between peals of laughter. "Oh my god."

And Stiles had just stood there looking at him. Derek composed himself a little before walking over to Stiles and kissing him soundly.

"Well good morning to you, too. Did you know that when you laugh like that, 27 puppies are born and 13 children's birthday wishes come true?" Stiles asked, grinning at him. "And I am fully willing to sing and dance to every Katrina and the Waves song I know as often as possible to get you to laugh like that more. For the kids."

Derek pressed his forehead against Stiles'. "Why do I like it when you won't shut up?"

"Less conversational space for you to fill?" Stiles guessed.

"Must be." And more kissing. Derek could probably just fill most of his conversational space with kissing and Stiles would be pretty happy. "What are you baking?" he asked when they finally broke apart.

"Prostitute cookies!" Stiles cheered.

Derek groaned.

"You're taking me tonight." Stiles informed him. Derek raised his eyebrow when a wave of arousal mixed with embarrassment rolled off of Stiles. "To the diner. You're taking me to the diner with the prostitute so I can give her cookies. Oh my god."

Derek grinned at him. "Oh look," he continued. "Some fluffy bunnies were just born. That's what happens when you smile. Just fyi. You're like this warm, beautiful ray of sunshine, in the wake of which, cute animals are born. Now stop distracting me." Stiles had kissed his nose and pushed him away.

And Derek had wanted to talk about it then, too. But Stiles started humming Eye of the Tiger and shaking his hips again, so Derek had sat back and enjoyed.

Now they were driving to the diner, and Stiles had a plate of assorted cookies and that prostitute would love them, dammit. At least, Stiles hoped so. He had a feeling that Derek would make her love them, if she didn't do it voluntarily. But she would! Because the cookies were awesome and Stiles is awesome and the prostitute is awesome and blow jobs are awesome. Secretly, he was worried she would laugh at him, because what the hell? Who brings a prostitute cookies?

"But the cookies are awesome and she'll love them, right?" Stiles asked Derek out loud.

Derek looked over and Stiles was chewing on his lip. His eyes were big and round and Derek didn't understand. He could face all kinds of monsters with a brave face, but he was worried a prostitute wouldn't like his cookies.

"I love you, too." What. Derek tried to figure out why he'd blurted it like that. Stiles must be rubbing off.

"Oh, um. I wasn't even sure you liked me until yesterday. I mean. Don't feel obligated to say that just because I did. Because I definitely didn't mean to. I mean, I do. Love you. But I didn't mean to spring it on you. It was just...your mouth and, yeah. You don't have to love me back. I'll understand if you don't." Stiles adjusted the plastic wrap on the plate of cookies.

"Stiles. I do, though. I've wanted you since we met. The very first time. And-"

"What? Why?" Stiles asked, incredulous.

"No, shut up. I'm confessing my love. No interrupting. And then, you know, we sort of became friends. Somewhere along the way, I started loving you. You never shut up and you don't stop moving and while your baking is decent, your cooking is awful. But I still do. I can't figure out why, but I guess I don't really care."

There was a moment of silence. Then Stiles said, "My cooking isn't that bad." But when Derek turned to stare, Stiles was smiling and wiping away a tear. Derek reached over and took his hand.

They sat in silence until they pulled up to the diner. Leaning against the wall was the same woman from the night before. Stiles hopped out of the car and she grinned at him.

"Jail-bait! What brings you back? Ready to use that discount?" 

"Nope. I brought you cookies. Thanks to you, I get free blow jobs whenever I want." Derek snorted behind him. "He thinks he has some sort of say in this, but. I now know he's totally hot for me, and I can be very persuasive. So. Whenever I want." 

"Thank god. I thought he was just gonna growl and never actually make a move," she cried, winking at Derek.

What was with the winking? Why did she keep winking?

"Okay, Stiles. We brought the cookies. Let's go before we get mugged."

Stiles handed her the cookies and started babbling before he could stop himself. "I really hope you like them, I mean I know this is super weird, because like, cookies, what the hell? But last night in the car, I was like "Oh god, Derek's about to blow me, I should thank her for making this happen with cookies. Because who doesn't like cookies? Crazy people, I guess. Or whatever. I guess to each their own. But yeah, there's a bunch of different kinds because I didn't know what you'd like. They're actually infused with more awesome than normal cookies, because I was singing Eye of the Tiger while I made them. So-" Stiles stopped short when Derek grabbed his hand to pull him toward the car. 

"Okay, well thanks and enjoy!" he cried before Derek pushed him in.

"No problem, hunny." 

Derek paused before he got in. "Really, though. Thank you. It would've taken me awhile."

"I could tell. You're welcome. Get in there and take your boy home. Don't get arrested," she giggled at him as he slid in behind the wheel.

Derek rolled his eyes and backed out of the parking lot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your kind words and the request for this chapter!
> 
> Feel free to stop by my tumblr: fictionalfeelsandfrustrations.tumblr.com and request other things!

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from Car Song by Elastica.


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